20. Rory
Rory
Idon’t even wait until we get home. I can’t.
I need him.
And I need to show him how much I want him.
As I shift the SUV into drive and pullsout of the parking spot, I reach over and let my fingers dance along his thigh, the light touch a whisper of a promise.
“Hey, babe,” he says, looking over at me with a grin. “What are you up to?”
“Oh, you know,” I say. My tone is light, teasing. “Just thinking about my boyfriend.”
Nate’s laugh rumbles through the car. “Yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm. How hot he is. How much I want him.”
He chuckles. “You don’t say.”
This evening has done a number on my emotions. Maybe it’s all of those ups and downs that have fed into my current state, or maybe my hormones are on overdrive.
Right now, I’m not in the mood to analyze, though. I just want Nate.
I turn onto High Street, and I move my hand farther to the inside of his thigh.
When his erection starts to press against the fabric of his jeans, I give myself a mental high-five.
We don’t talk as I drive down the main road of our town, although need hangs heavy in the air.
When we approach Fourth Street, I keep going straight.
Nate cocks his head. “Did you mean to miss that turn?”
“Nope.” I know exactly where I’m going.
I glance over at Nate, whose eyebrows are lifted in question. “You don’t want to take me home?”
“Not yet.”
Did I laugh when Allie leaned over during the auction and suggested seducing Nate? Absolutely. But it didn’t take long for the idea to grow on me.
The tension crackles between us as I steer his SUV through town, one turn after another. There are only so many places to go in our small town, and I know the moment he realizes what my plan is.
“We’re going to the Ridge?” Nate asks as I turn onto the unmarked dirt road.
I shrug, giving him a wink, but not an answer.
Yes, we’re going to the Ridge. The overlook is famous for its views of High Lonesome and the nearby lakes. It’s a popular hiking destination during daytime hours.
After dark, it’s where the high school kids go to drink and hook up.
Nate and I spent time up here when we were in high school. Not drinking, and not even having sex, at least at first. But there were a lot of make-out sessions up here.
I shift in my seat, my body all too ready to reminisce.
I slow the car as the dirt road comes to a dead end. Two other cars are parked already, their occupants’ shadows visible in the moonlight.
Pulling the SUV into a parking spot, I kill the engine.
“God, this brings back memories,” he says. “Remember coming up here after the winter formal?”
God, do I. It was our junior year of high school.
The weather was freezing, so we kept the car running as we kissed as though our lives depended on it, our hands running over one another’s bodies—over clothes—until a knock on the window had us jumping back, running our hands through disheveled hair as though we needed to prove something.
“That was a fun night,” I say, giggling at the memory. Then I make my tone serious. “Now, get in the back seat.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Nate says.
He glances at the car next to us.
He must decide that they’re wrapped up in their own activities because he opens the driver’s door, then climbs out and into the back seat.
My stomach flips. Having control like this is heady.
I want to make tonight perfect for him.
“Take off your pants.” There’s a waver of uncertainty in my voice that I hope he doesn’t catch. “Boxers, too.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says again, winking this time.
He undoes the belt at his waist, then the button, and pushes his pants down to his ankles.
His erect cock tents the fabric of his boxers.
He shoves the boxers down to join his pants. “What now, babe?”
Honestly, I’d be happy just looking at Nate like this. Relaxed, happy, and so fucking hard.
Precum beads at the tip of his length, and I run my tongue over my lips, summoning my inner seductress. “Now, you sit there and behave.”
I crawl over the seat and sit at his feet. I’m wedged between the front and back seats, with the floor mats digging into my knees, but I feel sexy.
When I lean forward to swirl my tongue against the tip of his cock, ripping a groan from his throat, I’m drunk with power and seduction.
“Fuck, babe,” Nate groans, arching. “That’s so fucking good.”
I tease his tip again. “That? You like that?”
He groans again. “Are you going to fucking tease me, babe?”
Hell, if it gets this reaction from him, then yes.
I drop a light kiss on the tip, wait a few seconds, then open my mouth and swallow him, taking his length all the way to the back of my throat.
He’s big enough that it’s a challenge, but it’s not impossible, and with the way he throws his head back, I think I hit the right spot.
I settle into my spot on the floor as I worship his cock.
I run my tongue along his length.
I cup his balls in my hand, tugging them gently.
I let every thought of the pageant, the town, the pregnancy scare drift away as I focus on his pleasure.
God, we should have come up here sooner.
The world fades away. The only thing that matters is me and Nate.
“God, Rory,” he says.
I take him deeper into my mouth, into my throat as I run my tongue over the soft skin of his length.
“Fuck, babe,” he says. “Hell, I’m going to come.”
I pull myself off of him and offer a cheeky smile, even though I’m not sure if he can see me in this light. “Yeah? You think so?”
Nate groans. “Jesus, fuck.”
I let my tongue glide along his shaft, from the base to the very tip.
This time, his groan is more like a growl. “Rory. Fuck.”
I continue to tease him. “You want more?”
Nate arches his hips. The moonlight cascades across his body, highlighting every curve and edge.
“Rory. Please.”
His tone borders on desperation.
I adjust my position and fix my gaze on his face. “Take it.”
Nate grips his cock with one fist. He pumps it once, twice, as he studies me.
“That what you want?”
I nod, handing the power back to him. “Take what you want. Use me.”
“Fuck,” he groans. “So fucking hot.”
He leans back, still stroking his cock. With his other hand, he grips my ponytail, wrapping the hair around his fingers.
I moan at the pinpricks of pain and pleasure as he tightens his fist in my hair.
“Open,” he says, his voice full alpha. “Open that pretty mouth.”
I keep my gaze on him as I obey.
Nate guides my head onto his cock, forcing me to take it deeper into my throat.
I grip his thighs, my eyes rolling back in my head. Holy hell, this is hot.
He pulls back. “You let me know if it’s too much, babe, okay?”
In response, I lean forward to swallow more of his length.
All of this feels so scandalous. Being at the Ridge. Controlling the situation, then letting Nate take control in a way he hasn’t before.
As he moves my head back and forth and I lose myself in the pleasure, I let all of the background noise fade away.
When Nate comes, I take everything he offers.
“Fuck,” he says, breathing hard as he leans back. “Fuck.”
I laugh, still balancing myself between his legs. There’s a bit of pride that wells in my chest from being able to reduce this man to single syllables.
“That good, huh?”
“Fuck,” he says again. “No. Better.”
I bask in the glow as he pulls his pants up and fastens his belt.
I did that to him.
It’s not the first time, and I’m sure it won’t be the last, but damn.
It’s almost better than having an orgasm myself.
Nate sits up in the seat and looks down to where I’m wedged into the floor space.
“Now it’s my turn to play, babe,” he says.
Did I say better than an orgasm?
Maybe that was overstating it a bit.
I bite my lip as Nate helps me up out of the awkward position and onto the bench seat.
He gently presses me backward until my shoulder blades touch the door.
“You’re amazing, Rory.” He seems to maneuver effortlessly despite the small space, moving his body over mine until our lips meet. “I love you so much.”
“I love you,” I whisper.
I kiss him again, letting him part my lips with his and slip his tongue into my mouth. It’s familiar now, but somehow every kiss is charged with feeling.
When he pulls back and looks down at me, a rush of sensation goes through me, leaving me lightheaded.
I’ve never felt like this before, where you love someone so deeply and want them like this. It’s everything. It’s overwhelming.
“Let me take care of you,” Nate says.
His message is clear—I had my turn.
And now he gets a chance to explore.
I drop my head back as he takes control. This is #relationshipgoals. The give and take, the power play, passing control from one person to the other.
My head spins as Nate slides his hand over my shoulder and down my body, and I surrender to him.
His thumb slips over the swell of my breast, and just as I draw in a sharp breath, he pinches my nipple, hard.
But before I can respond, he’s moving those magic fingers down my side, sliding across my pelvis.
He hooks his fingers into the waistband of my jeans. “Take these off.”
He tugs at the denim.
The way he takes back control so effortlessly after letting me dictate the start of this is dizzying.
I reach down and undo the button at my waistband. Nate pulls the zipper down slowly, then holds my gaze as he slides the fabric down over my waist and thighs, just to the top of my knees.
As the cool air hits the apex of my thighs, I bite back a moan.
When it comes to Nate Patterson, I have no defenses. And hell, I don’t know if I want any to stand between us.
So I let him coax me up and over the edge of a climax, and then another, until I have nothing left.
As my orgasm ebbs, I almost forget that Nate will be going on a date.
With another woman.